


Irises & Kunzite

by JackyM



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: M/M, as usual....NO IDEA when this is supposed to take place ehehehe ;w;, it is just very cute and sweet and i really wanted to write it!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-21 02:53:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10676199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackyM/pseuds/JackyM
Summary: Love's a pretty weird thing.





	Irises & Kunzite

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I've written any Twin Peaks stuff! I know this is shorter than most of what I tend to write, sorry about that! Mostly I wasn't too sure of what I was doing. I'm kinda scared that I didn't do too well with this characterization-wise. A lot of inspiration for this fic I think came from reading Coop's autobiography tbh. Which, side-note, is...REALLY heavy stuff. ;o; 
> 
> Anyhoo writing this was pretty fun and a nice change in pace and also a new thing I did so I'm proud! (ノ*゜▽゜*) The title btw is in reference to irises, a flower for love/wisdom. And kunzite is a gemstone given to express trust and opening up! =v=
> 
> Also I posted this on Coop's bday. B3

Diane, 

Sheriff Truman is not yet back from the grocery store. He said that he would not be gone long. I know him to have competency far beyond whatever competency is needed to go to a grocery store to get milk and come back without a hitch. There is no reason to suspect that any harm has come to him. Despite this, however, I find myself worrying over the prospect that he may never return, or that, at the very least, he is gravely injured. I do not completely understand this feeling, this feeling of worry rooted in care. Love is an interesting feeling, Diane. Sometimes it is the source of exuberance beyond imagination, a simultaneous source of calm and excitement, and sometimes it is a source of great unease and upset. Many psychologists have deduced that love is a result of chemicals that pass through the brain and trigger several psychological and physical reactions, all of which amount to love, a feeling tied to somebody that you have very strong, positive feelings attached to. 

But love feels as thought it consists of so much more than that. The complexity of it cannot possibly be as easily explained as just impulses passing through gaps in synapses. Chemicals, Diane, make up everything physical. Perhaps they are the medium in which love is possible, like oil paints on a canvas. But they are not the beautiful image that is a result of different oil paints put together and shaped into a painting of a mighty spruce or a solemn elk standing in the firm Canadian wilderness. The medium is only successful perhaps in bringing something to life, but not in creating all the beauty and mystery that something elicits. 

You don’t want to look away from paintings like that. You want to keep looking at them. They capture a sort of beauty that comes from something more complicated than simply a mix of already complex chemicals. Every second spent looking at something or…someone who encapsulates a feeling as radiant and free as unconditional love is a beautiful one. I cannot emphasize enough how much I value my friendship with Harry, and I think it goes without saying that…that I love him. 

…I am just now realizing that oil paints themselves are made of chemicals, which reduces the power of the comparison somewhat. All things being made of chemicals really does make it hard to compare one thing to another. Perhaps if something not made of chemicals were to exist, and that something could be used to create art, like paintings or sculptures or mosaics, then comparisons of art to things made of chemicals would be more sound.

 

[seconds of silence]

 

Someone is at the door, Diane. Given how it is taking more than forty seconds but less than a minute for the door to be unlocked and opened, I think it is Sheriff Truman. I also have reason to suspect that it is Sheriff Truman because his footfalls are heavy and evenly spaced apart. There are many things unique to him but one of the most unique is how he carries a sense of calm and order even in how he navigates. I find it endearing. Now that he has opened the door, I can see that it is snowing outside, which likely precluded Harry’s trip home, if I am judging the roads of Twin Peaks correctly. Am I judging the roads in Twin Peaks correctly, Harry? Harry chuckled and nodded his head, indicating that I have guessed correctly. The way the weather impacts places is generally an easy assumption to make, though it is never a guaranteed correct one, which is perhaps why meteorology requires as much research and research equipment as it does. Weather balloons are truly a scientific marvel. Perhaps one of the most marvelous and whimsical types of scientific equipment that has been developed yet.

 

[a few seconds’ pause]

 

Diane, I am making an attempt to hold a tape recorder while Harry is hugging me from behind. He is making it very difficult to hold a tape recorder because he trying to hold my hands at the same time and being quite charming about it. I think it would be sensible to turn off my tape recorder before Harry starts to kiss my—hey, hey, Harry! It tickles!

 

[tape is cut short]


End file.
